Yes, poor dryad! She makes me want to cover her with evergreen boughs. But, no matter how it seems now, there is nothing sweeter than to be a tree spirit in summer, and the summer will not fail to return and restore her to joy!

Speaking of joy, I am glad to see a post from you, Vesper. :-) You are cruel, and starve us, and yet when you do appear, you bring such confections that we immediately forgive you and purr contentedly, reading, again!

Oh you must be cold up there in that Northern place you live. I love your words here, so well suited with the picture which was just, well, strange, a very strange vision indeed! It will come, that spring...

Karen, she sleeps in my back yard... She was standing until a few days ago – I don’t know what happened, maybe she was really tired… :-)Thank you for your kind words, my friend.

Oh, dear Fireblossom, how I wish I were just cruel and not overwhelmed by extraneous things… But your purr lifts my burden, if only for a moment, and I am grateful for that! :-)

Sweet Cat, cold outside, cold inside… Thank you! Yes, it was strange to see her like that, as if she’d gained some life of her own only to go to sleep. Now it makes me think of Prosper Merimee’s short story “La Venus d’Ille”…

Mark, that you have taken again the time to write a soothing poem as a response means immensely to me. Thank you, my friend!

Thank you so much, Aniket! I will… :-)

Marilyn, I hope so! Thank you for your very kind words. :-)

Thank you, Charles! This time this find in my backyard inspired the words…

Kaye, I’ve heard, you had a lot of snow. Not so much here, but it’s so persistent as it holds hands with the ruthless cold. That’s my garden nymph, but she seems to have become tired lately…Thank you for your words of appreciation.

L.A., thank you!This statue is in my back yard. It was standing next to that very old maple tree, with two firs on each side. One morning, little more than a week ago, I discovered it lying in the snow. I don't know how it fell. One can only imagine... :-)

In Search of Lost Time

A Member of the Shameless Lions Writing Circle

He leaped at me
from the faded tiles of
Ishtar's procession.
His claws sank deep
into my flesh,
the dust of all illusions upon us.
"What seek you?" he rumbled. "The brilliance
is gone,
the gold is ashes."
"One named Alexander," I said.
"He was once a god."

My Heart Only

In the orchard of pink grapefruit, I walk.
What gleams, what sparkles, so lively, so slyly,
In the hot well of this darkness?
No stars in the high, no glow worms in my skirts.
Only your eyes, your glare of sapphire.
Your mighty roar echoes for me alone,
Sweet and bitter.
Do not devour me, lion of my heart.
Let us sacrifice this ripe grapefruit.